Pain lanced through his skull as consciousness beckoned. The boy stirred as his senses began to flood him with information. Almost instinctively, his nose scrunched up. It wasn't that the infirmary smelled bad, on the contrary, Poppy made sure the place was spotless and odourless. It was just that when he ended up at the infirmary, it was always after whatever life-threatening event he'd escaped only by the skin of his teeth. He delved into his memory, wondering what escapade had landed him under Poppy's mercies this time.
He remembered Tom's impromptu re-birthday bash at the graveyard. He vaguely recollected returning to the Dursleys and his room at Privet Drive, but that was as far as he got. 'Right, so that means I must've gotten hurt at the Dursleys. Did ole' Dursley finally snap? Or was it Diddykins and his gang?'
As Harry lay pondering which of the two Dursleys had socked him, he heard two voices murmuring a small distance away. He cautiously opened his eyes, making sure not to draw attention to himself.
His heart warmed when he saw Ron and Hermione next to his bed, seated in a couple of chairs facing each other and locked in an argument, their voices going back and forth in a furious flurry.
"It doesn't matter what Dumbledore -" "Professor Dumbledore, Ron" "- told us to do, Hermione. We should've been in touch with him."
Harry heard Hermione sigh.
"Ron, you know I wanted nothing more than to write Harry. But it wasn't that simple. All it would've taken is for Them to follow an owl from the Burrow straight to Harry's house."
Silence.
"We should've still talked to him somehow, the fellytone or something," Ron said stubbornly.
Hermione laughed and her breath caught.
"I know. I don't know if I could've ever forgiven myself if something had happened to him."
"Forgive yourself? It's not like you sent the dementors innit?"
Harry froze. 'Dementors?'
Hermione hummed noncommittally. "I wonder who sent them. It couldn't have been you know who. He hardly had time after the graveyard to go to Azkaban and convert the dementors to his side."
Ron sputtered, "It was surely Him! The only other people who could do it are the Ministry themselves!"
"Ron!" Hermione furiously whispered. "Keep your voice down! And yes, the Ministry of Magic. The same Ministry that seems to be going out of its way to slander and silence Harry and the Headmaster."
"Oh," came Ron's glum voice. "That's not a pretty thought."
Silence.
"...that's downright terrifying that is."
A cold silence descended over the trio. Harry decided the infirmary could use a little excitement and prepared his best stentorian voice.
"Oh Lord Jesus it's a fire!" he yelled and sat up.
Hermione screamed and slipped from her chair and fell to the floor. Ron jumped up, wide-eyed and staring. Harry laughed as his two friends blushed.
Hermione stood, plaintively rubbing her behind and seemed torn between hugging him to death and sending him back to sleep the easy way. She finally decided on a light punch to the shoulder and a muttered "Git!" and hugged him tightly.
Ron was Ron and simply slapped him on the shoulder. "Good to have you back, mate!"
"How do you feel, Harry?" Hermione asked sitting down beside him on the bed while Ron dragged his armchair closer to the bed before collapsing bonelessly on it, earning a half-hearted glare from Hermione
"Honestly? Much better than I expected really. I had a headache when I woke up, but it's almost gone now..."
The unasked question hung over them ominously, like a cloud that had yet to decide whether to drizzle or unleash a storm.
"Harry mate... Do you remember what happened?" Ron asked tentatively.
Harry shook his head, his lips set into a hard line. "The last thing I remember is going back to the Dursleys after school ended last year... So... what did happen?"
"The Headmaster thinks it was the dementors, Harry. The last thing anyone knows for sure is that you asked Dudley to run home and that you'd 'hold them back'. Professor Lupin and an auror found you in the street with a dementor leaving your side."
"Was I kissed?" he asked bluntly
Hermione shifted uneasily. "We don't know that for sure..."
Harry looked to Ron with a questioning look, who thanks to either a lack of emotional maturity or maybe a penchant for directness, always went with the unfiltered truth.
The redhead nodded somberly. "You were... Dudley had already reached your house by that point, so the dementor was there at least for a few minutes before Lupin reached you..."
"And it needs only a few seconds to kiss a person." Harry finished.
An uneasy silence once again descended. Harry reached out a hand and plucked a hair from Ron's head.
"Ow! Bloody hell! What was that for!"
"Science."
Hermione suppressed a snigger at his side as Ron rubbed his head, muttering under his breath about mad gits.
Harry sighed. "A first kiss from a dementor. Wonderful."
"Good thing you don't remember it!" Ron quipped.
"Ron!" Swat! "Ow! No wonder I don't do well in the exams, Mione! You keep hitting the brains out of me!" Ron exclaimed indignantly.
Harry and Hermione looked at each other and chuckled. Maybe it was the stress, or maybe it was the uncertainty that hung over them like the sword of Damocles, but the chuckle turned into a belly aching laugh and the duo had tears streaming down their faces as they rolled around the bed laughing.
Ron looked mutinous, trying to decide if he was being laughed at, but finally cracked a smile as he watched his two best friends make fools out of themselves. They were much too serious all the time, he mused. Hermione in her pursuit of sating the rules, and Harry dealing with whatever life threw his way - and man was there a lot of that.
The laughing petered out and the trio settled into a comfortable silence. They turned as they heard the staccato of Madam Pomfrey's shoes coming their way. Ron and Hermione stood up and greeted the school healer politely. She smiled briefly at them before turning to Harry.
"Mr Potter, I see you've decided to grace my presence once again." She looked stern but her lips quirked upwards.
"What can I say, Poppy, I guess I missed you."
"Harry!" Hermione looked scandalized.
"Oh, that's quite alright Miss Granger. I believe I have a potion for young Mr Potter here that should cure him of his sass."
Harry's smirk disappeared like a rat fleeing a tabby cat. "A potion?" He asked cautiously.
"Just a headache-relieving potion, Mr Potter, don't you worry," said the healer as she wove her wand in intricate patterns over Harry, casting diagnostic spells.
"Hmm..." she frowned. "You are fully recovered Mr Potter... but..." she hesitated and raised her wand to run through her diagnostics once again.
"What is it Madam Pomfrey," he hesitantly asked.
She didn't reply for a good thirty seconds as she glanced through the results that had appeared on a piece of floating parchment. She finally looked up and let the parchment dissolve back into nothing.
"You are recovered, Mr Potter. In perfect health, I'm glad to say. But... your vitals are markedly different from just a month ago after the tournament."
"Is that not supposed to happen?" Hermione asked curiously.
"No Miss Granger, a person's vitals are like their fingerprints. They never change. Whatever Mister Potter has been through has seemed to change him. And it's not a bad change, from what I can glean."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked.
The healer looked at the three of them. "A wizard's or a witch's magic is not infinite. If they perform too much magic at once, their magical core, the source of their magic, is drained. We have different statistics to measure a person's core like its strength and potency, among others. Mr Potter's core has expanded considerably."
"Could it have been under a bind of some kind?" Harry asked.
"Magical binds are nothing but rumours," she looked at him sharply. "A person's magic is innate to them. There's nothing one can do to lose it."
Hermione's brows furrowed in thought.
"But, Madam Pomfrey, I thought that the Ministry could bind a person's magic if they wish to live in the muggle world without a magical education?"
"Ah... What the Ministry actually does is wipe the person's memory of any reference to magic and the wizarding world. They live the rest of their lives without knowing they are magical."
The trio descended into a pensive silence while Madam Pomfrey measured out a vial of a greenish, gunky potion.
"Here, Mr Potter. It will relieve any headaches that might be ailing you.
Harry made a face and tried not to gag as he swallowed the contents of the vial in a single breathless gulp.
He tried not to gag. "Why do they all have to taste so bad?" he complained as he handed the vial back.
"You mean have them taste good and give you even more reason to come back to the infirmary? I don't think so, Mr Potter." Poppy smiled.
"Now off with the three of you. I've been informed by the Headmaster that you are free to explore the castle to your heart's content for the afternoon. You'll be heading home this evening at 5 from the floo here," she gestured at the fireplace.
"Thanks for patching me up Madam Pomfrey! I'll be back soon!"
"I'm sure you will, Mr Potter," she said diplomatically, refusing to tempt the odds on the teen's near death experiences.
It was early afternoon, and they had a leisurely lunch in the kitchens, served by over-eager house elves who seemed to be lacking enough work in the summer. Harry and Ron wisely led the conversation away from the topic of the elves while Hermione seemed torn between thanking the elves profusely and storming up to the Headmaster's office and demanding that he release them.
They spent the rest of the evening catching Harry up on the events of their summers - he'd lost a good month of his memory before the dementor attack - and strolling through the blessedly empty corridors with only the clunky metallic suits of armour, the castle ghosts, and the magical portraits for company.
When it was time to leave Hogwarts, they headed back to the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey was waiting for them by the fireplace along with the gnarled, battle-worn figure of Mad-Eye Moody. The real one this time, thankfully. He handed Harry a scrap of parchment that read 'The Headquarters of the Order of The Phoenix is at 12 Grimmauld Place'
Harry quirked an eyebrow at Hermione and she whispered in his ear. "It's a Fidelius secret. Only those who know it can remember or enter a Fidelius charmed location."
They stepped into the fireplace in turns, and Harry was spat out of the green fire and tumbled unceremoniously onto a hard wooden floor. Moody, Hermione and Ron exited the Floo almost gracefully, grinning at the heap of human limbs that was Harry at the moment.
He groaned and slowly stood up.
"I swear you guys aren't telling me something about how to floo," he mumbled as he brushed off the ash from his clothes.
Moody looked confused and was about to open his mouth when Ron shook his head furiously to stop him. He shrugged, the business of teenagers was none of his business after all. His job done, he grunted at the three students in farewell before leaving the room.
"Is he here?!"
The door that Mad-Eye had just left from opened suddenly and Sirius stood in the doorway grinning widely.
"Harry!" he exclaimed and crossed the room in two strides and wrapped the teen in a bear hug. "I'm so glad you're alright!'
"Uh... thanks, Sirius..." Harry said as he awkwardly patted his godfather's back. He was still a stranger to comforting someone physically. Mrs Weasley gave good hugs but they were too life-threatening as his oxygen supply was always cut off. Hermione hugged him from time to time, but as she was quite shy herself, she only did so after a stay at the infirmary or after he'd done something stupid - which meant she would try to crush him to within an inch of his life. And Ron was simply too much of a guy's guy to dole out hugs, he usually settled for a backslap and a "Bloody hell mate! We were worried sick!"
Sirus finally let him go, having drawn comfort from his godson's presence.
"So how have you been Harry, heard you had your first kiss. Took your breath away?"
The three looked at him with wide eyes and shocked laughter left Harry's lips.
"Madam Pomfrey gave me a clean bill of health. I'm good to go." He smiled.
Sirius wrapped an arm around his shoulders as they left the floo room. "'Escaping Poppy' - We should write a book, you and I," he mused
"Sirius... where are we?" Harry asked.
Sirius turned to look at Harry's friends with a questioning look on his face.
"We wanted to let you tell him and give you two a chance to talk," Hermione explained. "I think I'm going to head up to my room now, give you two some time."
She hugged Harry tightly and left with a smile. Ron followed suit with a grin and a "Good to have you back Harry. Just... try not to die in the next few hours, yeah?"
"They're good friends," Sirius commented.
"They are indeed," Harry confirmed, a warm feeling blossoming in his stomach.
Sirius led him to into a large living room. The walls were painted a dull violet and an intricate wooden showcase wrapped around the room, housing hundreds of books. The room was pleasant, more so than the small glimpse he'd gotten from the rest of the house. A semi-circle of couches surrounded a warm fire in the hearth. The two sat facing each other and Harry melted into the plush cushions with a sigh.
"I guess I owe you a story, Harry. You know how I've been laying low and out of Ministry sight?"
"Yes?"
"Last year, I went around checking up on the Black properties in the UK. Most of them had been taken over by a shell company operated by the Malfoys. But the one we are in was locked and warded, refusing entry to all but a son of Black -"
"Isn't Draco..."
"A male Black? Yes. But fortunately for us, the spoiled tit wasn't of age. Another couple of years and ole Lucy would have gotten his manicured hands on this place too." Sirius seemed a bit bitter. 'So would I be, if the bloody Malfoys decided to steal my family's houses,' Harry thought.
"I'm sorry Sirius..." Harry offered hesitantly.
"Not at all, Harry, I couldn't care less about the fortunes of the Blacks. They were truly despicable - hearts as dark as a lump of coal. Almost every member of the family was lost to the Black madness. One that came from decades of dabbling in the foulest of magics."
"But how are you so good?" Harry blurted before his mind-mouth filter could engage.
Sirius smirked.
"Why I do believe that was a compliment."
Harry huffed. "You know what I mean. You're so nice... and..."
"Sane?"
Harry nodded hesitantly.
"Sometimes, I don't believe that myself," Sirius chuckled darkly. He shook his head to clear it, an action that seemed oddly reminiscent of his canine animagus form.
"If I've even retained a fraction of my sanity and my morality, it's thanks to the Potters."
Sirius smiled as Harry's eyes widened.
"My mother was always disappointed in me. I wasn't cruel enough as a child for her liking. And when I was sorted into Gryffindor, life over the holidays became a living hell. I don't want to drag up old memories, but let's just say that to my mom, the Cruciatus curse was child's play."
Harry maintained a calm exterior but was horrified inside. He could never even imagine going through that as a child! The Dursleys are practically saints compared to Sirius' mother.
"In the summer after my third year, I decided I'd had enough. My thoughts were taking a turn towards the violent, and even violence and revenge against those who harm you leads you inevitably down a dark path. And as a Black, it would be all too easy for me to slip into their madness. So I ran. I ran to my best friend's house. I had Kreacher, my elf, take me to the rough location of Potter Manor with only my wand in hand and I wandered around the Scottish woods for two days before I felt the strong wards of the manor."
He smiled fondly. "Charlus and Dorea Potter, your grandparents, they took me in without question. Their only conditions being that I tell no one that I was under the care of the Potters. If the Black family found out, they could charge the Potters with the kidnapping of their and drag them in front of the Wizengamot. And so I stayed, I spent my days with Prongs and his parents and I learned what love was for the first time in my life. They were great people, Harry. The Potters, each of them larger than life, but still real. Dorea, your grandmother, was a Black by birth and understood where I came from. She helped me heal and recover from..."
Sirius cleared his throat. "I spent my summers and winters with the Potters, and that's how I am who I am. The two worst days of my life were when Charlus and Dorea, my parents in all but blood, were killed in 1978, and when James and Lily, my siblings in all but blood were..."
Sirius' eyes filled with tears and his voice was choked.
"The Potters were my family, Harry. I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for not making you my immediate focus on the night of Halloween 1981. Because of my mistake, we've both been stuck with our gaolers for the last 14 years. But no more. I'm taking you away from the UK, Harry. I had hoped we could finish your education here in peace. But with You Know Who back..."
"Leave the UK? What do you mean Sirius?" Harry asked, his voice lowered in trepidation. His godfather looked at him for a moment, weighing something in his mind.
"What do you know of the first war, Harry?"
"Not much, to be honest..." Harry admitted. "I didn't want to read about... you know..."
"Harry... the first war tore the country apart. He was truly undefeatable, anyone who faced him on the battlefield died horribly. The only reason Hogwarts stayed open with a semblance of peace was due to Albus Dumbledore and his Order of The Phoenix. Back then the ranks of the Order was full to the brim with veterans of the war against Grindelwald and a decade of war with V- Voldemort. Even then, we barely held back the tide of the Death Eaters. The Ministry was practically non-existent, an almost neutral force that both sides kept operational to uphold the veneer of the Statue of Secrecy, not for the sake of the Muggles, you see. But so as to not invite the wrath of the ICW. Muggleborn were methodically kidnapped and killed every day, while half-bloods were tortured and... abused. It was war, Harry. A war as brutal, bloody, amoral, and as disgusting as you can possibly expect it to be. The Death Eaters were without qualms and they used our morals against us without a shred of remorse. Babies and children, women and senior citizens, no one was spared the torture, abuse, and death."
Harry listened, horror pooling in his stomach. This was the man he'd been facing all these years? This... monster... How could anyone support this?
"Today, none of that opposition exists, Harry. The Order is full of spooks and lazy old men. The only fighters are Moody, Shacklebolt and a few of the newer aurors. The Ministry and the Auror Corps are corrupt and thoroughly infiltrated by the Death Eaters that escaped Azkaban following the purge after 1981. The richer ones like the Malfoys and the Notts have been recruiting on the sly - there's no shortage of pureblood bigots as you well know. If Voldemort comes into the open, the first thing to fall this time will be the Ministry, not the last. Hell, they wouldn't even have to replace the Minister, Fudge is a spineless coward and already in Lucius' pocket. The war this time will completely and utterly ruin England, Harry. Our only hope is to run."
Sirius sat back, looking at Harry, encouraging him to speak his mind.
"Sirius.. we can't run. Hermione, the Weasleys, the Muggleborn students. We can't condemn the people to this again!" Harry looked desperate, anguished, afraid - but determination burned within him. He couldn't let this monster rise again. He would fight tooth for tooth and inch for inch. Politics with Politics and fire with fiendfyre.
"Harry? What will you do?" Sirius asked quietly.
"What?" Harry blinked.
"What will you do against him?"
"I'll contact the Daily Prophet and..."
"Malfoy, Nott, and Greengrass own controlling shares."
"I'll train myself..."
"You're just one person, and a teenager, regardless of how much you've been through."
"My friends and classmates..."
"Are children and will remain children until the war starts."
Harry was beginning to get frustrated. How could Sirius not understand? They needed to fight Voldemort.
"Fine! I'll at least bloody try to evacuate the muggle-born."
"Okay."
"What?" Harry hadn't been expecting any positive reply at this point.
"You finally had an idea that was achievable and feasible in the timespan we have, so I said yes."
Harry's face brightened. "I have to talk to Hermione's parents first, see what they think."
Sirius smirked. "They're selling their dental business as we speak. They're shifting to Australia in a few weeks. New identities and everything. They seem to be quite well off, thankfully."
Harry was stunned. "This... is unexpected. You knew I would suggest that, didn't you?"
Sirius shrugged. "It's a logical conclusion. And besides, your brain is a combination of both James and Lily, so I can read you pretty well really. It's an unfair advantage. Sorry." He didn't sound all that apologetic.
Harry shook his head. Damn Marauders. Always a step ahead. Not that he was complaining in this case.
"How did the Grangers take it?"
"Not good. Thankfully, Hermione had told them about my innocence, so they weren't too surprised or try to blow my head off when a mass murderer showed up at their doorstep. But I levelled with them. I held nothing back and we talked for six hours straight. I told them all about the last war and how it was stopped only through a stroke of luck that made lottery tickets seem like a certainty. They did thank me profusely afterwards, though. Hermione had... filtered your exploits in school, it would seem. They didn't seem very happy with her, I wouldn't want to be her the next time she meets her parents."
"You're evil." Harry grinned. "And the Weasleys?"
"They were surprisingly easy to convince. Molly was sold as soon as I opened my mouth. Feels good to have her on my side for a change. She even complimented me on how sensible a parent I'm becoming. Sensible! Me!" Sirius beamed. "But money is going to be a problem for them, but I've got ways around that too. We'll discuss them later."
"Any other brilliant plans I should know of?" Harry asked. He was coming to respect Sirius. The man had a keen mind, for all his outwardly childish behaviour.
"Oh, tons!"
"..."
"What?"
"Tell me!"
"Tell you what?"
"Your plans you git!"
"What pla... Ow! Hey, stop that!" Sirius ducked as an arm pillow flew at his head. "Fine! Alright, Mr Fun-Killer, let's move to my study and I'll show you."
"When are you getting neutered?"
"WHAT!" Sirius exploded, not expecting the question.
"What." Harry looked innocent. "Surely you know that pets travelling internationally the muggle way have to be neutered? Don't worry, Padfoot. It won't hurt, I'll take you to a nice vet."
"You..." Sirius sputtered, trying to figure out if his godson was serious. He had James' mischievousness and Lily's ruthless streak. Not a good combination for anyone in his sights.
Harry's eyes glinted and Sirius bolted up the stairs. "Stay away from me, you ball thief!"
Only the sounds of evil laughter followed him upstairs.